


On Hockey, and History, in the Second Person.

by shihadchick



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-23
Updated: 2006-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shihadchick/pseuds/shihadchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray finds he's a little more jealous of Mark Smithbauer than he'd quite realised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Hockey, and History, in the Second Person.

**Author's Note:**

> For [Joy](www.livejournal.com/users/rhythmsextion). This was, obviously, written before the 2010 Stanley Cup. :D

It was one of those confused moments, after, where you could kind of remember the way things had felt, and how it had sounded and the roaring in your ears, but, really, when it came down to it, you weren’t entirely sure just how it actually happened. Point A got to point B and apparently half your brain was floating somewhere in between because you just have no idea.

There was hockey on the TV, a highlights show, and you'd half been paying attention. That was one certainty. And then there’d been that sweet shot right into the goal, just enough to give you a buzz right down the backbone because you saw that, saw that live on the ice a couple years ago, and _damn_ that was good. Before the Hawks started to really suck, 'course.  And so you'd crowed and probably done some sort of embarrassing chair dance squirm combo (Fraser'd probably confirm THAT much, at least, if you asked, but you really don't want to, 'cos that, that's embarrassing.)

And then somehow you were talking hockey. Well, not like you weren't already, but this was specific, like, this was you and Fraser talkin' about players you’d followed and he was sayin' as to how he had Mark Smithbauer's rookie card, or at least he had done up until all that business with Greta Garbo and you were giving him shit about it, just yanking his chain a little bit, because why would Fraser have hockey trading cards? That’s a bit, well, normal, especially for mister Acts Like He Was Born in an Igloo Twice as Cool As You.

"But I know him, Ray. We're- friends." And that's the point you remember, the point that makes you go cold all over, the rapid freeze settling from the top down, all the way to your toes. 'Cos there's no way, no way that anyone says that- like that, with that inflection(thinking it like it's a dirty word, ‘cos it is, damnit) -unless they are significantly more than 'friends'. Unless they're down and dirty, melt-the-ice hot with it, one thousand and twelve percent totally doin' it.

Fraser. And- no way, there is just no way.

And he’s still just sitting there, all quiet like he realises he's said something he shouldn't have, and probably he's expecting you to just deck him one or tell him to get the hell out, but you can't, you can’t do anyfuckingthing except sit there, and look at him.

Look at that pretty face and imagine whether he whimpered, what his voice sounded like after he was kissing Smithbauer. Whether they were a longtime thing or just a couple of quick fucks. How they met. Where they met.

It occurs to you that fifteen minutes ago you still thought Mark Smithbauer was a pretty decent player and you always got a kick of seeing him out at the rink, playing the odd friendly game with the guys. 'Specially when he's still got that shot. Now, of course, it is crystal clear to you that, in fact, high sticking and a good puck to the groin are too good for him. If only you'd known.

Now, Fraser is still looking at you, except now he's frowning and, shit, fidgeting nearly, and obviously you look kinda weird so you try and laugh it off, and you say something but it's wrong, always wrong, and so you half-yell something completely stupid and storm off into the kitchen, kicking over half the contents of the table (which, at least, is mostly paper and other crap and not anything actually important or staining or that Dief should not be eating. Pizza's not going to be any good for leftovers, though.)

"Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray!"

Only a matter of time 'til you hit that point, and you heard him the first time anyway, there's just... something about your name when he says it. Sorta the way you want to grab his hair and just yank it until he shuts up. Probably you should save that thought ‘til after he's gone, though, and so you groan and probably it's then that you start knocking your head against the top of the refrigerator (hey, if Frigidaire can't belt any common sense into you then no one can, no way no how), muttering a response you don't expect even Bat Ears on the couch in there to hear.

"What, Fraser, what the hell do you want me to do?"

You weren’t expecting the answer. You really weren't expecting the fact that, uncharacteristically, he didn't actually really answer. Just takes you by the shoulder, grabs you away from the fridge and shoves you back into the countertop. Gets right up into your face, eyes hot, face tight, skin wrinkling up a little around his eyes. Somehow that looks more threatening than-- okay, it _doesn't_ , it's totally hot, everything he does is totally hot and you are so, so screwed.

"Ray, are you-" pause, he's thinking, feeling his way around the phrasing, not committing himself, all just like normal. It's almost endearing. Probably those weren't his exact words anyway but all you can remember is the gist of it. You're good with gist. "-envious?"

Yes. No. Maybe. "Yes-" Shit "I mean, no-" but it's too late, you've opened your big mouth one time too many and-

And it’s fucking greatness because he knows, swallows that "no" right on up until it turns back into "yes" and then there's more yes, and louder yeses and whining and hands everywhere, and a whole damn dizzy evening of pizza and hockey and yes and, well, probably if you do find Smithbauer's old rookie card in your own collection you're not going to, like, set it on fire or anything. Probably not. Besides, possession this period? 100% Kowalski, baby.


End file.
